The Right to Life

By: Rihi Jain and Riya Shah

With Ahimsa (non-violence) as one of its core tenets, Jainism considers human life to be the most precious form of life, among the 8.4 million yonis (life forms) to exist on Earth. With the 21st century’s evolving ideas of capital punishment, current events encourage us to think more deeply about the true value of a human life — as well as what it means to intentionally take away “the most precious form of life on Earth” (Shah 2019).

While Jain scriptures make it clear that practices such as suicide and homicide are a form of Himsa (violence), the narrative becomes slightly more complex when one begins to discuss the idea of Sallekhana. Sallekhana is a religious practice that involves voluntarily fasting to death by reducing food and fluid intake and gradually limiting one’s movements, generally over a span of 30 days or more, which differentiates it from suicide. While the presence of this practice in Jainism may be a surprise to some, the guidelines to take the vow of Sallekhana are clear: the person must be terminally ill (no hope of cure/recovery), is fully aware of their condition and associated risks (family, relatives, and Guru are also aware beforehand, unlike other practices), and has full knowledge of taking Sallekhana. They must take this vow for themselves and the idea of it is to request forgiveness, repent, reflect, and eliminate their deepest attachments, Kashayas (passions), and karmas until their very last breath. Taking this vow is meant to cleanse the soul and provide the opportunity for a peaceful, spiritual death.

Beyond Sallekhana, Himsa becomes more complex when using it as a lens to examine views on capital punishment — more specifically, the death penalty. As you read, consider how karma plays into the idea of justice as it relates to capital punishment.

~ Rihi Jain

A year ago, one of my college friends was interning at a public interest law firm, and he was graduating. He said he could refer me to the firm. In terms of the work, he mentioned how he was able to immerse himself in legal work and build on essential skill sets, such as writing memos, speaking with clients, and digesting files. As someone interested in the legal field, I jumped at the opportunity. However, I became slightly reluctant when I learned that his job was to defend incarcerated individuals — individuals who may or may not have committed the crime and who are subjected to the highest of penalties. I knew I wasn’t being forced to do this job. I had a choice: would my job potentially be seen as Udhyami Himsa (occupational violence) because the work I may do could potentially lead to the release of someone convicted of various crimes and run the risk of committing more crimes? Or, was this a reach? Should I choose to take this position or not?

When I spoke to the attorney I would be working with, my choice solidified. He explained that this job is important as work will be carried out that otherwise would not be undertaken. When it comes to working in law firms, students tend to gravitate towards firms that pay well instead of non-profit organizations. Therefore, it leads to a disproportionate number of individuals working in a non-profit law firm. The attorney also explained that some of the clients I would be working with directly had been incarcerated for years. Before, technology was not as up-to-date making it possible they were convicted of crimes they did not commit. It is up to us to decide how we want to view the clients: as criminals or people who deserve fair representation.

I wanted to think beyond a partial point of view (Naya) when I took this job. Every individual deserves to have their rights protected. Therefore, I would keep an open mind when working with clients. But, of course, navigating the legal landscape as a Jain while working as a legal intern on a death penalty case can present unique challenges.

One challenge I faced was assisting in a case where the client was maintaining innocence for a case where they were convicted of murdering an inmate. The client was on the death penalty, and his execution was approaching. My job was to assist in exploring ways to commute his sentence from the death penalty. At first, I sympathized with the client since it seemed awful that he would be imposed the death penalty for a crime the client did not commit. But after digesting his case files, I learned that he was convicted of several severe crimes in the past.

I felt conflicted because there was no way that the cheerful guy over the phone could have committed several heinous crimes. Regardless, I wanted to understand more about his situation and what led him to these decisions. From reading more into his past, I learned he was exposed to harmful situations. These experiences may have led him to be convicted of several crimes. While I am in no way justifying the crimes he was convicted of, I understood that a person should not be defined solely by their convictions. There tends to be more to the picture, and some people do not have the proper guidance in life to help them steer on a non-violent path.

Ultimately, there is no way of foreseeing whether he will be executed soon or whether his sentence will be reduced. We cannot determine destiny or Niyati. Overall, the ideas of capital punishment and Sallekhana present a fairly complex and conflicted view of Himsa and other Jain principles, challenging traditional views.

It is up to the individual to put forth effort because our individual effort is one of the Samvayas within our control. As someone who works with clients convicted of severe crimes, it is my responsibility to practice Anekantavada and uphold the principles of justice. Readers, we encourage you to think more critically about the application of these notions in your daily lives, and how they may influence your thoughts, actions, and behaviors.

~ Riya Shah

If anything in this article has offended you or gone against the teachings of Bhagwan Mahavir, we sincerely ask for forgiveness. Michhami Dukkadam